


Stone Cold And Dreamless

by FreyaPhilomath



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: 2005, Adult Themes, Alternate Universe, Angst, Half-Vampires, M/M, Psychological Drama, Romance, Sexual Content, Supernatural Elements, Swearing, Vampire - AU, Vampires, dub-con, half-vampire!ray toro, mature content, vampire!frank iero, vampire!gerard way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-04-25 10:09:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4956238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreyaPhilomath/pseuds/FreyaPhilomath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It was night, and the rain fell; and falling, it was rain, but, having fallen, it was blood" - Edgar Allan Poe.<br/>In a dark and godless world, where humans try to hide their fear in sunlight as vampires coexist in the darkness, one man will decide to break the rules.  When Gerard Way breaks Human Curfew and illegally explores the vampire world, he finds that the darkness can only hide him for so long.  When dawn arises, there is something very wrong with Gerard. With his brother and friend, they will travel to the horizons to find the answers.  But with answers comes choices, and they will be faced with many as they embark to find out what is wrong with Gerard.  With the police and hunters on their trail, plaguing dreams of blood and war and a vampire that will stop at nothing to entice Gerard to the darkness, time is running out.  Can they find the answers before Gerard turns dark, or will war ravage the lands forevermore?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Conscious Screams

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first published fan fiction, I hope you enjoy it! This is going to be set in 2005 in an alternate universe, so any Ferard that happens in this is not intended to be disrespectful to any band members or their families, as it occurs before the band members meet their spouses. Any constructive criticism is appreciated! :D

_"It was night, and the rain fell; and falling, it was rain, but, having fallen, it was blood." - Edgar Allan Poe_

That day, for approximately twelve seconds, the wind held its breath on that thick, humid night. The swollen sky paused to listen to the silence, and the darkness became a spectator to an unfortunate scene. A bloody, merciless scene, starring a ravenous monster who timed his insomnia perfectly and a man who should have not been out that night.

The night would remember how the latter man’s screams would echo across the dormant city, how the blood would creep into the flagstones, burrowing away into the cracks of the road to escape being cleaned up by the ignorant day that was to follow. Then, in the small hours of the morning, the scene would change.

The latter man, long left for dead, was clinging to his shredded consciousness as the silence was chased away by the wailing of an ambulance. In these certain hours, every sound was louder, like noise did not belong here. He groaned like a dying man, and tried to raise his shaking hand, casting peculiar shadows on the wall. A squadron of medics ran to his weakened form, lifting him from the damp flagstones and onto a stretcher, and the ambulance drove away into the night.

”We’re losing him! Nurse, I need more fluid, stat!”

"Got it." A dark haired nurse ran out of the Intensive Care Unit to retrieve what must have been the patient’s third packet of blood. The bright ICU was a hive of activity as swarms of doctors and nurses tended to the dying man.

Almost everything in the room was completely white, the machines, the bed, even the uniforms the medics wore were the same brilliant shade of white. The room was bare but for numerous machines, and of course, a thin bed where the man was strapped down. IV tubes snaked in and out of his rapidly paling body and his face was covered in a sheen of perspiration as he strained against the thick leather at his wrists and ankles. He was writhing between the sheets, hair sticking to his forehead like a spider’s web, eyes pale like the dead. The nurse returned, with nothing in her hands but bad news from the haematology unit.

"Doctor, the venom to blood ratio is too high for him to survive, giving the patient blood would only delay-"

"This came from haematology?"

"Yes."

"Then I will have to increase his cardiac output. Digoxin?"

"Right here."  The doctor grasped the syringe and injected the drug into the man’s bloodstream, hoping to increase his blood flow. However, as if on cue, the patient's heart stopped. Medical jargon was flung across the room as efficient procedures took place. The cold machines monitoring the man rang out warnings, intensifying the heated atmosphere. A wild haired intern rushed forward with a defibrillator, the thin whine cutting through the air.

“Clear!” The doctor shouted as the intern pushed down the electrodes into the man’s pale chest, sending a shocking pulse into his body. The man lay motionless. Each and every time the man’s body just convulsed, each electric shock briefly reanimating his body to meet the jet-black night.

After several tries, when it seemed that his heart would never beat again, the intern forced another electric pulse into his corpse, his hands shaking from lack of sleep and desperation. The man suddenly bolted upright, the force of his movements breaking the leather binds with seemingly inhuman strength.

The room itself seemed to recoil as the man let out a blood-curdling scream.

His body was now perfectly still and as rigid as a scarecrow, his previously white eyes a wild shade of hazel. Orderlies rushed to restrain the man as he continued to scream, the doctors and nurses had recoiled in shock. These were not the screams of a madman, this man had screamed as if he had felt every pulse of the defibrillator, as if he was only sleeping.

Those screams were conscious.

Eventually the orderlies managed to strap him to the hospital bed as a nurse anaesthetised him, the gas clouding over his wild, hazel eyes. The man was unconscious, but stable. The whole world seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief the silence returned; carefully interrupted by the beeping machines, steady as the beating of a heart.

* * *

Strangely, no one died that night.

But to say that he survived was a different statement entirely.

The man opened his weighted eyelids, blinking away the blur in his vision. He took in the serene setting, the room now devoid of doctors and panicked machines. His vision was gradually getting clearer, but a dull throb gave everything he saw an edge, echoing the ache in his throat. He tried to shift himself up to get a better view of the room, but found that four leather straps encased his wrists and ankles. Gritting his teeth, he strained against the bonds, until he heard a very concerned voice next to him.

“No, stop Gerard, those bonds are there for a reason.” Gerard flopped back down to the mattress, releasing a puff of air. His eyes flicked to the source of the voice, and they came to rest on his brother, who was slumped in a plastic chair. His blonde hair was ruffled, and the shadows underneath his eyes indicated his lack of sleep.

“There are too many things that are here for a reason, if only any of them were good.” Gerard croaked, allowing a weak smile to split across his face. The smile spread to Mikey, temporarily alighting his serious brown eyes, a small celebration that whatever happened hadn’t taken his eccentric older brother from him.

“Gee, I was so worried about you. You promised you would never go out after human curfew, and when I heard you leave, I had no choice.” Mikey took his brother’s pale hand.

“Wait a minute, no choice about what?”

“I followed you down the street when you left, and I -”

“What!? You followed me? Fuck, Mikey, you could’ve been killed!”

“You must see why I did it; you would have done the same! What was I supposed to do? I would rather have you in prison and alive than slain by one of those monsters! And when I heard you scream I had no choice but to call the ambulance!”

“That wasn’t your choice to make, I knew what the risks were.”

“How dare you throw your life away like this, I saved you!”

“Mikey, just shut up!” Mikey opened his mouth to argue, but Gerard’s heart rate monitor, which was beeping erratically, silenced his anger. Both brothers glanced at the monitor; it read 200 beats per minute. Gerard was breathing heavily, straining once again against the bonds, and his eyes took on that wild quality they had sported hours before. Mikey desperately squeezed his brother’s hand, telling him over and over to calm down.

After a few painful seconds, Gerard’s racing heart began to slow down and his breathing became smoother and deeper.

“Mikey…” He choked. Mikey looked up to his brother, his eyes serious once more, still keeping Gerard’s hands in a death grip.

“Mikey, I’m so sorry. I just don’t want to lose you.” Mikey laughed a little at that, releasing Gerard’s hand.

“You’re the one who’s in hospital, dude.” Gerard smiled and relaxed against the bonds, ignoring that his heart was still a little faster than usual.

“I’m just glad you’re alive.” Mikey concluded. Their attention was diverted by the sound of pounding footsteps, and soon two more people had entered the room. It was a tall, balding man with a younger, wiry man with just as wiry hair at his heels. The wiry man was clasping a chart, and the other man was clearly his superior, as all he held was an air of authority.  Both of them seemed puzzled at how calm the two men suddenly were.

"Ray, please check the patient’s vitals."

"Yes, Doctor Black." The intern, Ray scurried to Gerard’s bedside, hastily fiddling with the machines. Doctor Black cleared his throat, and began to speak;

“Well, the good news is, you’re alive and still human as far as we know.”

“How can you know that?” Mikey challenged, standing up from his uncomfortable chair.

“There was a lot of venom in his bloodstream, far too much for him to turn, let alone survive,” the doctor responded, stepping towards Mikey. “The fact that he is alive is nothing short of a miracle.” Ray stepped back to Doctor Black’s side.

“There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with the machines, doctor,” Ray confessed quietly, “perhaps the patient is just physically below the normal fitness-”

“Hey!” Gerard interjected, making everyone in the room jump. Ray turned to Gerard, studying the man. The man who shouldn’t have been able to hear that. Under Ray’s scrutiny, he shifted uncomfortably. _What’s his deal?_ Gerard mused, but just shrugged his shoulders as much as the bonds would allow, and hastily changed the subject.

“Why am I tied to the bed?”

“Last night, your body went into hypovolemic shock. You were thrashing about like a madman.” Ray answered.

“Oh, right. Well, I’m not right now, so would you untie me please?”

“Toro!” the doctor barked, and Ray ran to the bedside again, unfastening the buckles at Gerard’s limbs. Gerard rubbed at his wrists, savouring his freedom.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” As Ray and Doctor Black left the room, Mikey finally sat down again, and Gerard thought he saw Ray take a second glance through the window, his puzzled expression growing much deeper. He turned to see his brother being ushered out by a nurse, and instantly brushed off his concerns. After the nurse changed the dressing on his throat, Gerard found the switch to the morphine drip, and let the chemicals carry him to oblivion.


	2. I Am Full Of Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! I have written a few chapters ahead, so hopefully I will be able to update (fairly) regularly. Hope you enjoy! ^_^

The next few days that were to follow would be filled with treatments, visits, and mind numbing, skull shattering boredom.

The treatments were fairly routine, occasionally they would measure his heart rate and blood pressure or check the wound on his neck for infection, but the most difficult part for Gerard was eating. Meals were served regularly at the hospital, and as the days went on, Gerard found it harder and harder to force it down. Gerard thought Doctor Black would be worried, but he put it down to trauma and the fact that hospital food generally isn't great. Gerard was happy to agree with him, but he always felt a little uneasy whenever he received a blood transfusion. Even if he hadn't eaten, after a transfusion he always felt like he had.  And once, the intern took his blood pressure, but instead of writing it down on his chart like he was supposed to, he just walked away without saying a word.

A few days after the incident the police arrived, and they didn’t hesitate to pepper him with questions. Despite the doctors assuring them he was human, they kept asking him what happened and if he remembered meeting anyone. One of them even asked to look underneath the bandages, much to Doctor Black’s shock. But most of all, they asked if he remembered anything, and each and every time, Gerard could only say nothing. His head was just full of nightmares since that night.

It seemed that the only thing keeping him sane was that intern and the frequent visits from his brother. Although his brother stopped by when he could, the intern was a wonderful way to break the settling boredom. Often Ray would stop by Gerard’s room for a chat about horror films or music, finding in both areas they shared common ground. Ray was tenaciously enthusiastic with everything he said, and Gerard started to think the way he was before was just the result of stress.

He was a doctor, after all.

Over the course of a few days, Ray Toro and Gerard Way would become firm friends.

But it was on one occasion that this particular friendship would save Gerard's life. It was a rainy afternoon three days after Gerard's arrival, and again Gerard was found in his room passing the time reading.

He held a slightly battered copy of 'Fangoria' magazine that he had borrowed from Ray, and was lazily flicking through the pages. As he browsed, his ears picked up the sound of distant footsteps approaching. He looked up, expecting to see Ray or Doctor Black already at the doorway, but the hallway was just filled with ordinary, oblivious activity. He frowned, cocking his head to the side. He could have sworn he could hear footsteps coming closer. He shook his head and returned to the macabre article he was occupied with.

The footsteps continued to grow louder, but when he looked he could see no one coming. He just ignored it, dismissing it as his overactive imagination.  Still, the footsteps persisted. Gerard continued reading, his find frantically searching for more rational explanations to these seemingly invisible footsteps, but his questions died away as someone entered the room.

"Hello, Mr. Way. I've just come to check your vitals. How are you feeling?" His eyes slid from the pages to find Ray standing in the doorway much later than he expected.

"I'm good, but seriously man, you can call me Gerard." Ray smiled a bit at this, showing a row of slightly pointy teeth, and replied;

"I know, but it's a formality so we don't get sued."

"You would get sued over calling a patient by their first name?"

"Yeah! It's crazy what people will do for money." They both laughed at this, as if sharing a private joke. Suddenly, Ray's face fell and etched itself in a worried expression. Gerard's heart sped up a little, this couldn't be good.

"Doctor Toro, what's wrong?" Gerard inquired, but Ray didn't answer. He considered asking again, only to be distracted by the presence of a thick liquid just above his lips. His tongue darted out instinctively, a metallic tang clouding his senses. Blood. Ray brusquely handed him a paper towel, and Gerard dabbed at his bleeding nose without further comment.

"Pinch the bridge of your nose until it stops. It's not serious, but you gotta be careful not to lose any more blood."

"Why? It's just a nosebleed, right?"

"Mr. Way, just do it. You are in critical condition."

"Okay, okay, I'm doing it..." Gerard complied, raising his eyebrows at his sudden seriousness. Ray didn't move an inch until the bleeding stopped, and he was quick to put the bloodied paper towel into the biohazard bin. He exhaled deeply, as if they had just escaped a hugely dangerous event. Gerard was by now a little worried, Ray's reaction seemed very strange.

"What just happened?" Gerard asked, some concern slipping into his voice.

"Nothing happened, you just had a nosebleed." Despite the words he said, everything in Ray's body language said he didn't quite believe himself. Gerard didn't believe him either.

"Don't tell anyone about this, okay?"

"Why?"

"Just don't." Ray's pager beeped loudly in his pocket.

"I gotta go now, remember what I told you."

"Yeah...whatever..." mumbled Gerard, feeling more confused than ever.


	3. The Restless Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! Ugh, I just realised how short these chapters are (the last one was a shocker! ^_^), so I'm hoping that after this chapter there will be a higher word count. Hope you enjoy this, and constructive criticism is always appreciated! :)

Midnight. Beeping machines. A sleeping hospital. Gerard can't sleep.

2AM. The sheets are rumpled. The rain should be soothing. Gerard can't sleep.

He let out another exhausted breath as he stared at the clock's slow journey to 3AM. He lay tangled in the sheets, hair matted and skin pale. His eyes felt very open, as if the darkness was keeping them there. He continued to stare at the clock when he was distracted by the sound of a door slamming deep in the hospital. He scrambled into a sitting position, straining his ears for anything else. He hoped against hope he would hear nothing, but as the seconds agonisingly ticked over, the distinct sound of running footsteps towards the ICU.

There are many reasons why someone would be running in the ICU, but not at night.

Apart from him, no humans would be awake, and for that reason, those footsteps made Gerard uneasy. His heart pounded as they got closer and closer, his mind already conjuring up a thousand possible situations. Soon, they were just outside his door, and Gerard was ready to run, but instead of a terrible being, he was greeted by a flushed face, surrounded by a halo of brown curls. He noticed that there were grey shadows around his eyes, like he hadn't slept well.  Ray stood at the door, breathless and dressed entirely in black. Gerard stared, bewildered, and just as he was about to ask what Ray was doing, Ray spoke;

"Gerard, don't ask me why, but you gotta get out of here, right now." He spoke in hushed tones, as if the world was ending.

"Ray, what's going on, where are we going?"

"There's no time for that. Just think of it as being discharged early. Here, put these on." Ray threw a black duffle bag to Gerard, which contained his old leather jacket, black jeans and battered shoes.

"I salvaged what I could, but I couldn't save the shirt. I figured we'd be the same size." Gerard rummaged to the bottom of the bag to find a plain black t-shirt.

"Thanks man." Whispered Gerard as he quickly began to change. As he was tying the last shoelace, Ray was already pulling him out the door. Gerard stopped for a moment, not quite sure whether he should trust Ray. Noticing Gerard's hesitation, he paused to demand,

"Hey, Gerard, come on, we gotta go!"

"Why should I trust you if you don't tell me anything?"

"Because right now, you have no choice. I'll explain later, I promise." In ordinary circumstances, Gerard would have demanded for more information, but there was something about him that made him feel like he could trust the guy.

He reluctantly agreed to go with him, both of them trying to run quietly down the halls. Gerard was still a little sluggish from the morphine, but with some effort he could keep up with Ray's scissor-like strides. Ray lead him through the hospital, turning this way and that, until they reached a fire exit door. Ray pushed the heavy door open and stepped into the rain, Gerard following closely behind. Ray dashed to an old, red trans-am,fumbled with the keys and got into the driver’s seat, motioning for Gerard to get inside. He clambered into the passenger seat and the car pulled away, leaving the formidable building far behind.

Gerard craned his neck to watch the hospital retreat over the horizon, the first streaks of daylight starting to show themselves through the water droplets on the rearview window, He turned towards Ray, who was now driving very deliberately with white knuckles, like the wheel was the only thing keeping him there. A tense period of silence passed, until Gerard decided to break it.

"Ray, what the fuck is going on? Why did you bust me out, and why now? Human curfew hasn't started yet."

"I can explain, trust me."

"Then explain, for fucks sake. I'm beginning to wonder whether I should have trusted you."

"Okay! Fine. I came as soon as I figured it out. It took a while, because it wasn't, _you_ weren't supposed to be possible."

"Wait, figured out what?" Ray sighed at that and tapped the steering wheel.

"I recognised the signs as you were recovering. Your heart rate was way faster than it should have been at rest, you had real low blood pressure, the way you reacted to the blood transfusion. And the nosebleed confirmed it."

Ray fell silent, the dreadful conclusion weighing heavy on his shoulders.

"Gerard...you were illegally converted that night. You're an immortal."

Nothing could describe how heavy the silence was, how thick and all consuming it felt. Ray had expected the other man to scream, or shout, or something, but he just sat there, still as a week old cadaver. As for Gerard, his thoughts had been swept away by those words, a furious red storm raging in his head. His eyes stared blankly into the windscreen, unblinking at the rhythmic sways of the wipers. Left, right, left, right.

"All my life, I wanted to be something more. All my life, I wanted to join the world the immortals lived in. I hoped I was gonna be drafted, but in case I wasn't, I just wanted to experience the vampire world before it was too late," Gerard continued to stare as he spoke, words sounding like a long lost memory. "but not like this. Never like this." Ray furrowed his brow, this certainly wasn't the reaction he expected.

"Is that why you were out past human curfew? To watch them?" Ray queried, holding his breath as he waited for the man's answer.

"Yes." Ray sighed again, both in exasperation and pity. Clearly this guy was too curious for his own good, and now he paid the price. Gerard continued;

"Ever since I was a kid, vampires have just _fascinated_ me. To me, they are like death personified, only in some ways they are more alive than I've ever seen in a human. The human race seems so dead sometimes, like all there is left for us is the same boring destination, but to be an immortal would to be something more, something _better_. They are nothing like us, and that's why they are so beautiful to me." This was the first time Gerard had confessed his fascination for the immortals, no one apart from Mikey knew about it. That was just as well, if he told anyone else, he would be considered a traitor.

"I never thought of it that way," stated Ray as he turned a corner, "do you feel like that now?"

"I don't know," Gerard admitted, "I just don't know anymore."

The silence descended on them again.

"Why aren't you scared of me?" Asked Gerard.

"Why would I be scared of you?" Replied Ray.

“‘Cause I'm not human anymore, maybe?"

"Ha! Don't worry, you aren't the only freak in this joint." Gerard looked at Ray with increasing curiosity. _No way_ , he thought, _he couldn't be._

"Are...are you a vampire too?"

"Close. I'm a half. My mom was an immortal, my Dad was human."

Gerard whistled in awe, "I thought vampires were sterile!" He exclaimed.

"Most of them are, but I guess my mom was lucky. Or unlucky, depends on how you see it." Gerard inwardly winced, he knew he had just put his foot in it, big time.

"Sorry man."

"It's fine, don't worry about it." Before the silence could stifle his questions any further, Gerard hastily changed the subject.

"I guess that explains how you could walk around during the day without burning up and recognise my symptoms then."

"Yeah, I went through most of them when I was a kid."

"Oh. Anyway, where are we going?"

"Someplace safe. Just so you can lie low for a bit until it’s safe to move on. The police are gonna be all over your shit when they find out you're a vampire, and trust me, you don't wanna be found."

"But what about Mikey?"

"Your brother? You can't see him, that's the first place they'll look."

"But I gotta say goodbye to him, if I'm gonna be on the run I won't see him again!"

"It's too dangerous. At least for now." Gerard huffed in anger at this, but knew Ray was right. Perhaps later on he would find a way, but right now his head was buzzing and he was really tired. Ray noted his quietness, and asked,

"You okay man?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, it's just a lot to process." Ray hummed in agreement, and pulled into a seedy looking motel, named 'The Day Bat'. The neon sign was harsh and abrasive to Gerard's eyes, which seemed to be getting better every day, and the 'Immortal's Only' sign on the door a stark reminder of who, or rather what he was.

They paid for a twin room at the counter and trudged upstairs to the second floor of the building. Gerard had heard that immortals don't sleep at all, so he was wondering why motels for vampires existed in the first place, but when he saw a group of girls assisting a friend who had clearly drunk too much alcohol infused blood and later on Ray falling into a fitful sleep, he guessed even the dead need to sleep too. In the room, he clambered onto the overly squishy bed, and fell into a deep, but somewhat restless sleep.


	4. The Last To Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Since I will soon be doing my school exams (ugh), then after that I will be going overseas for a holidays (yay!) I'm afraid I won't be able to update for quite some time. Nonetheless, I have a nice long chapter for you all, and if I have time I will post future chapters automatically. Hope you enjoy this, and constructive criticism is very much appreciated! ^_^

_..."It's so much fun watching you struggle,” the man smirked as Gerard snarled like an animal. The man leaned in closer as he murmured, "It makes your heart go real fast, and it tastes much better." His cold lips faintly brushed Gerard's ear, causing him to shudder. He felt him smirk against his skin, forcing out a shaky breath from Gerard as he spoke again, "I don't think your heart is going fast enough, don't you?”..._

_"Mikey, I'm so sorry."_

_....A stabbing pain was forced into his nerves as the man's razor sharp white teeth tore into his throat..._

_"You have no idea how fucking delicious you are."_

_...And as always, innocent like roller coasters._

_Fatality is like ghosts in snow and you have no idea what you're up against..._

_because I've seen what they look like._

_Becoming perfect as if they were sterling silver chainsaws going cascading…_

_Fatality is like ghosts in the snow..._  

Gerard opened his eyes sleepily, but only to squint them as the light hit his eyes.  He moved his hand in front of his face to shield his vision until his eyes adjusted, and groggily sat up from the bed.  Now the day had broken, he was able to see his new establishment.

 The room wasn’t very bright, it carried that kind of filtered light all seedy motels have, the kind of light that shines of wild nights and dirty sheets.  There were two single beds in a row, one of which was occupied by a twitching Ray, the other one being the one he was sat on.  The walls were covered by dark and peeling wallpaper, it curling away to reveal dirty concrete.  The windows were small and painted sloppily in black, which allowed some enough light to see, but not enough to do any harm.  The light seemed much brighter that day, even the slight glow from the painted windows hurt to look at directly.  

He swung his legs out of bed, movements still waterlogged with drowsiness, and ran his hand through his slightly greasy hair, collecting his thoughts from the inky tendrils.  One thought that caught him was why he never was affected by the light when he was in hospital, it wasn’t like the place was built for vampires.  Then he remembered, how the blinds were always drawn and the lights always dimmed.  He looked over to Ray’s sleeping form and smiled. _Ray, I owe you one._

He was instantly distracted by a sudden wave of nausea, his hand flew to his mouth as he dashed to the beige tiled bathroom.  He braced his hands on the sides of the sink, arms wobbling slightly at the imbalance of weight.  Gerard coughed violently, his eyes squeezing shut as the room was filled with wheezing breaths.  The coughs racked through his body, sending hollow spasms through his chest and blood out of his mouth in great globules, red splatters filling the sink like a abstract painting.  

He continued to cough, more and more blood shooting out of his mouth aggressively like a brass band, accompanied by steady drips, like single notes played on a piano.  Gerard straightened up and wiped away the blood with his sleeve when the coughing subsided, glancing at Ray’s reflection in the mirror.  Ray was leaning against the door, face pensive.

“How long did you sleep?”  

“About six hours, I guess.”  Gerard coughed violently again.

“That’s pretty good, but that’s probably the longest you’ll ever sleep.”

“You seemed to manage.”  

“Being half-human helps.”  Gerard didn’t reply, and continued to stare at his blood in the sink.

“What’s happening to me, Ray?”  sighed Gerard.

“The venom in your blood is acting like a virus, so the RNA from the venom is penetrating your body cells, or more specifically, your blood cells.  The RNA destroys the genetic material in your blood cells, and replaces it with new genetic material which is designed to be rejected by the immune system.  Then, your immune system recognises that there is something foreign in your body, and rejects it.  That’s why in the first few days after a conversion you will lose a lot of blood through coughing and nose bleeds.”  Gerard stood up straight and sighed a little, glancing at Ray.   Ray’s eyes in the dinginess of the hotel suddenly looked wider, as if the black of his pupils had started an invasion on his eyes.  They could have been almost fearful, if his open body language didn’t betray those eyes.

“It’s totally normal.”  Ray added as Gerard turned to face him, the slightly manic look in his eyes persisting.

“Dude, none of this is fucking normal.  This is a fucking nightmare.”  

“Well, you’d better wake up then, ‘cause this is as real as it gets,”  Gerard turned around again and started to wash the blood down the drain, turning the water pink as Ray stepped towards him, “You were out for _six hours._  That’s _ages_ for a full vampire.  Hell, if I slept for _five_ hours I’d feel pretty good.”

“Why is how long I sleep important?” Gerard asked, frowning.

“It’s a measure of your humanity.  It shows how much of human Gerard is left.”  The look on Gerard’s face was that of a man whose world was beginning to crumble before him.  Ray nervously ran his hand through his untameable hair, worrying that he’d said too much.

“Wait, wait, how do you know all this?  You live in the human world.”  Every word he said became less and less sure as Gerard spoke.  Ray sighed resignedly, knowing that the past he kept secret for so long would have to be digressed.

“Not all my life.  I’ve seen it.  I’ve seen the worst of them, they all start out as decent human beings, but then they start sleeping less and less, until they sleep for maybe thirty minutes in a day and some who don’t sleep at all.  The less human you are, the less you sleep, the less you dream and the less you give a damn. I found that by being a half I can sleep during the night and dream a little, but it’s difficult.  But it’s worth it, because although the vampire world seems all exciting and bright to you, the truth is it’s the cruelest world you’ll ever know.”  Gerard turned to face the dirty mirror, saying nothing.

“That’s why I live in the human world.  Yeah, it may be slowly dying and grey, but overall it’s a _kind_ world.  Because of the short time they have on this world, people have time to _care_ , even if they don’t know that I’m not exactly human.”  More silence spanned between them.  

“How long do I have?”

“Well, you seem to be pretty human so far, which is good, but it usually takes a couple of weeks.  But if other vampires find out that you’re new and still relatively human, at best you will be reported, and at worst, they will kill you for fun.” Gerard made a noncommittal sound, a sound halfway between a ‘yeah’ and an ‘oh’.  

Ray shifted uncomfortably, the reality settling in along with the silence, that he had just invited a bizarre and possibly unstable (as most freshly turned vampires are) man into his private life, staying in a desolate motel away from the light of the law.  Just by having this strange guy near him was punishable by death, and the fact he hadn’t been turned by a professional was disconcerting.  Ray had been told countless horror stories at the medical school he attended about illegal turnings, and how easily it can go badly wrong.  By becoming a doctor, he had seen the worst that can happen to a human and an immortal alike.  And he was a citizen, for heaven's sake!  He had a perfect attendance record throughout his high school career, he was never late, he hadn’t received so much as a parking violation. Ray wasn’t the type of person who broke the law, yet here he was, harboring an illegal vampire, on the run from the police (which, by now would have probably figured out the reason for Gerard’s unexpected absence).  

Ray felt like he had been thrown into the deep end of a pool filled with sharks without being taught how to swim, much less survive.  

All he had was his medical knowledge, the ability to make quick decisions, and this odd man in front of him.  And now Ray had to do what he did best, think quickly, and run with what little information he had to decide his next step.  

“Gerard, I will make sure that no one finds you, but you gotta stay here until I get back.  I have to get my stuff then go to work now, or they’ll think something’s up.  I’ll be back at nightfall and I’ll bring some blood for you, and while you’re here, try getting used to sleeping during the day, okay?”

“Sure, thanks man.”  Ray smiled wryly, just grazing his eyes as he turned away.

“Hey wait,”  Ray was just at the door as he heard his voice, “why are you doing this for me?  You barely know me.”  Gerard asked.  Ray just grinned, and said,

“Just ‘cause I follow the rules, it doesn’t mean I like them.  I thought you could use some help, one freak to another.”  Gerard grinned, his mind easing a little as Ray left.

“Thank you.” Gerard beamed.  As the plywood door swung shut with a weak bang, Gerard lazily strolled into the small living space and began hunting for some paper and a pen.  Eventually finding the tools he needed, he sat down on the sofa, tapping the cheap BIC pen twice against his cheek, and began to wile away the hours in lines of ink.                                                                      

* * *

Mikey was always the last to know things.  

If there was a rumor going through his college, he would find out about it when it was no longer relevant.  If there was a big news story about a scientific breakthrough or a government betrayal, someone would tell him about it in copious detail before he watched it on the news.  Hell, even if there was a death in the family, he would enter room filled with his family, already nurturing their flowers of grief before his could even sprout.  This time was no exception.  

He rose early, didn’t turn on the news as usual, attended his lectures, studied a little, procrastinated a lot, then visited Gerard in hospital.  However, two of those events deviated from his usual routine.  

Throughout the day, his classmates would stare and whisper and point, and a few times people crossed the street to avoid him.  Mikey couldn’t for the life of him figure out why for the best part of the day, why everyone looked at him with fear and suspicion.  He tried his best to ignore the staring and pointing, but by the end of the day he was struggling to repress sudden murderous urges.  

And Mikey had never been a violent person.  

He would talk to Gerard about it when he visited him, he would know what to do.  Gerard was no stranger to odd looks on the street.

 Fifteen minutes later he arrived at the human only hospital, the looming white building towering over the city.  Mikey hunched over a little, as if the building intimidated him a little, and sloped through the sliding glass doors.  Inside was a swelling waiting room filled with patients and tired nurses, with an oval shaped reception station at the back.  

Mikey sloped over to the reception desk, head bent low and eyes looking upwards underneath his glasses, giving him and almost undead quality to his gait.  He reached the reception station, letting out a mumbled greeting to a willowy receptionist with short blonde hair.  

“Uh...Mikey Way to see my brother, Gerard Way, please?” The woman was taken aback and let it show.  

“Gerard Way?  The guy with the neck wound?”

“Yeah...is there something wrong?”  The woman didn’t answer, only creased her forehead.

“You didn’t know?  He’s missing.  Went AWOL last night.”  Mikey staggered, suddenly feeling incredibly light headed.  His brother had already rubbed shoulders with death, and he couldn’t lose him again. He wouldn’t lose him again.

“Is there a problem, Sir?”  asked the receptionist, bringing Mikey down to earth.  He blinked hard and swallowed, before replying,

“No, I’m fine.  Thanks.”  Mikey turned around and without a second glance, walked out of the hospital.

* * *

The streets were blurred and everything was moving way too fast.  Mikey could barely see in front of him for all the possible things that happened to his brother.

 He thought the first thing to do was to go to the police, they had to know something.  He briskly walked down the rush of human traffic, occasionally bumping into people along the way.  He stopped quickly to pick up a tabloid, which was unusual for him, but he felt he needed to know what was going on.  He didn’t even have to look at the back page, his brother’s face was smeared on the front page.  It read “Human Illegally Turned Escapes From Hospital”.  He scanned through the article, which claimed that Gerard was an illegal vampire on the rampage.  There were almost no legitimate sources, but it seemed that Doctor Black voiced his concerns.  Mikey angrily crumpled the trashy newspaper and tossed it into a metal wastepaper basket, and continued his journey.  

Gerard couldn’t be a vampire, he was sure of it.  He would have known if his brother was a monster.  Just as he was about to turn right to the metropolitan police station, he was stopped by a weathered hand on his shoulder. 

“Mr. Way?”  Mikey swivelled his head and saw a mountain of a man behind him.  He was tall, very tall, standing a few inches above Mikey, with broad shoulders and a face chiseled like a boulder.  His hair was spiky and blonde, with a reasonable beard growing like lichen on his face, with two searching blue eyes set into his skull like lakes.  

“Who’s asking?”  Mikey lifted his gaze ever so slightly to meet that of the man’s. He instantly regretted catching the man’s icy glare.  He had the look of a man that could easily be seen at a seedy bar with a strong spirit on the rocks, could wring Mikey’s skinny neck and be so unmoved as to take another shot while staring at Mikey’s limp body.  The man slid his hand into the breast pocket of his black trench coat and produced an official looking I.D card.

"Agent Bob Bryar.  I work for the agency, in the department of illegal conversions," Bob Bryar held out his I.D card so Mikey could see it.  Mikey leaned forward and peered at the card.  It was fairly plain, with the agency insignia on the left hand corner, the holder’s name in plain black ink and a photograph of the holder.  Everything about it was fairly innocuous, except for the fine writing at the bottom of the card.

 The fine writing that every citizen had to obey and answer to.

 Mikey barely needed to read it, but he forced his eyes to take it in, forced himself to look past the scratches and collecting dust on his glasses, hoping it was just his eyes playing tricks on him.  The card read 'Official Operative Of The Agency Of Human and Immortal Cooperation'.  

AHIC.  

This guy worked for AHIC.  

Suddenly the idea of Bob wringing his neck seemed all the more likely.

"Son, I'd like to ask you a few questions.  Care to come with me?" Mikey swallowed hard, only just managing a shaky nod.  Bob smiled inwardly, he was a shy kid, there should be no problem getting him to cooperate.  Mikey continued walking down his original route, Bob following him closely, though it was clear that Bob was the leader here.  Whether it was  a casual nod in the right direction, or a muttered instruction, Mikey was but a puppet under the gruff spell of his master.

Eventually the strange pair reached a rotting park bench covered in graffiti near a pond, where they both sat down.  As the silence spanned between them, countless situations ran through his head as to what he could have done to warrant a visit from an Agent.  Did he get too drunk at a party and do something stupid?  Did he leave his lights on too long and piss off an immortal?  Countless offences reeled in his head, until he could take it no longer and said;

"Sir...am I in trouble?" Mikey asked tentatively.

"No, you’ve done nothing wrong yet,”  Mikey exhaled in relief, letting it swell like a balloon.  However one look at Bob’s face showed he wasn’t finished.  “It's about your brother." Bob stated the words plainly, instantly bursting the swell of relief Mikey let bloom in his chest.  Of course it was about his brother.  His weird obsession with vampires had finally come to bite him back.  He broke the law by being out at night, and now there would be hell to pay.  

"What about my brother?"   _Ah, there it is,_ thought Bob.   _Playing dumb._  Unfortunately for Mikey, playing dumb to your opponents only worked if they were dumb themselves.

"You understand he broke the law by being outside after dark."

"Yes, but the police have already talked to him.  He's gonna be fined when he recovers.”

"This ain't about the money."  Bob leaned in closer, leather squeaking a little.  "Your brother is officially missing."  Mikey recoiled a bit, desperately searching for a sign the man was bluffing.     

"Missing? But how-”

“How can he leave the hospital unnoticed when he was just a few days ago seriously injured?  I was asking that too.”

“But aren’t you jumping the gun a bit here?  I saw him just yesterday, he is stuffed with morphine, he couldn’t be too far, right?”

"For a human, yes, it's early."  This time the silence wasn’t deafening like it should have been.

Although it still rang it’s outrageous shade of loud, it was drowned by the weight of Bryar’s words.  

Bob knew how his words impacted the boy, how the power of suggestion was slowly imploding his young world as he connected the dots.

"What are you saying?"  Mikey whispered as he tensed his body for the news.  There was a shudder coursing through his veins, begging, pleading to be released.

“Your brother was already on the Red List for researching vampires.  Although that isn’t a crime, it’s likely he wasn’t researching vampires for ‘personal interest’.  Then one night he breaks curfew, someone bites the poor bastard, and he winds up in hospital, scared shitless but alive, only to run off weeks later.”  Bob leaned in even closer, his cigarette breath filling the air between them.

"If you know something about Gerard you aren't telling me, you need to come clean."  At that point, Mikey couldn’t hold it in any longer.   He let the shudder run free across his skin, travelling all over his nerves like cars on a highway, only to tumble out of his lips and stain the air.

“You think he’s a _vampire?_ ” Mikey’s already widened eyes opened even further, instantly making him look ridiculously innocent, while Bob’s eyes were narrowing like a snake about to deliver the killing blow.

“I don’t think, _I know_.  What is important now is his whereabouts.”  Hopefully that would break the boy’s walls down.  It was clear the Way boy feared vampires at least, and maybe, just maybe, Bob would be able to use that fear for hatred.  That was where he worked, among the shadows, inspiring fear and hate in both species to do what he did best; destroy all threats.  However, it became clear that there was something standing in the way.  Mikey rose abruptly from the bench, hands clenched.

“Bullshit. My brother isn't a vampire, I’d think I'd be able to tell my brother apart from those monsters.”   _Dammit_ , Bob thought. _It’s always the loyalty that gets in the way, every fucking time…_

“He’s not your brother anymore, he’s dangerous.”

“I was with him every day, and not once did he ever hurt me.”

“You aren’t hearing me. He- ”

“Look, I know my brother.  Yeah, he has a weird thing about vampires, but so far you have no real evidence.  I don’t know where he is, and even if I did, why the hell would I tell you?” Bob exhaled sharply, and dug into the depths of his pocket.

“Fine, I can’t force you into anything.  But if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”  He pressed a black square of card into Mikey’s hand, the agency’s symbol emblazoned in red.  Mikey was too outraged to even process what he’d been given, and just strode away from the large man, the park bench and his anger.

This time, Mikey wasn’t the last to know, but what Bob told him challenged nearly everything he thought he knew.  So in this case, what exactly did he know?  Mikey continued walking, letting his strides slowly dissipate his questions and doubt.   

Bob stared grumpily at Mikey’s retreating form, watching the answers walk away with him. He swore under his breath as he stood up, quickly brushing himself down. _He had so much fear in him,_ Bob thought to himself, _so much potential_.  He shook his craggy head, and disappeared into the dark edges of the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own the lyrics, they are a product of My Chemical Romance. I just thought it would be interesting to use them! 
> 
> Cheers, 
> 
> -FreyaPhilomath


	5. We Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! As I am and will be overseas for a while, most of these updates will be written on my iPod, so I do apologise for any autocorrect or typographical errors! Hope you enjoy the chapter!

"I’m back!” Ray cheerily called, his voice lighting up the drab room. The same duffle bag Gerard borrowed was resting on his back, this time a bit fuller and he was clutching two plastic shopping bags that rustled against his legs like anxious livestock as he walked. Ray awkwardly closed the door, swung the bag onto the sofa and deposited the blood laden bags beside the kitchen sink.

“Hey Gee, I got some blood from the grocers. It ain’t gonna drink itself!” Ray laughed a little at his own joke, but it died in the silence. He looked up to the room, and it felt empty. It was far too quiet. He checked the bathroom just in case, but Gerard was nowhere to be found. Eventually what he did find was a crumpled note stuck to the fridge covered in Gerard’s spiky handwriting. Ray tore the note from the fridge and scanned the text.

_Dear Ray,_

_By the time you have found this note, I will be gone. I know you said that seeing my brother would be dangerous, but I had to go. Just to explain why I will never see him again. I hope you understand._

_\- G_

Ray sighed through his nose and crumpled the note. He closed his eyes in resigned frustration, and sank into the barstool at the counter.

“Shit, man, why would you do something so _stupid_?” The words were a mixture of a mutter and a sigh, as if the words themselves were too exasperated to maintain substance. He ran a hand through his hair, fingers occasionally snarled by knots, and waited. He didn’t know where Gerard’s brother lived and the city was huge. He could be anywhere. As far as he knew it hadn’t been made officially public that Gerard had disappeared, and now that he was a vampire he would be slightly less vulnerable. Despite this reasoning, dread still clung to him. To combat this, he reached for the television remote and switched on the news, hoping he wouldn’t see Gerard on the screen.

* * *

The night was a lot brighter than what Gerard expected.

Lights danced across his vision in an array of colour, accompanied with the sparkling chatter that a fresh night brings. The sun had all but hidden itself in shame from this grand night. Despite the wonders that ran to meet his eyes, Gerard couldn’t appreciate what he saw.

The lights barely grazed his eyes, the noise turned the other direction. All he saw was where he needed to go. But it was difficult, oh so difficult. Everywhere the aroma of fresh blood would hit his nose like a punch, making his stomach clench. Each time he passed a shop or a restaurant was like having a bony hand clench his insides, sending waves of nausea to his head. His stride was interrupted by his hunger, and never before had he felt this fragile.

He weaved his way through the bustling crowd, bumping into businessmen and women as he went. A coat of perspiration glided onto his face, and he grit his teeth to stop them from biting his tongue in the hope of finding blood there. He knew it would be futile, there was almost no blood in his body, and even if there was it wouldn’t be drinkable.

Finally, he turned another corner and found the grey, hulking apartment block he and his brother lived in. It was a mixed species apartment just on the outskirts of the wrong side of the city. He staggered through the entrance and into the elevator, pressing his thumb on the button. Steadying himself on the wall, he breathed in deeply so he wouldn’t collapse in the elevator. The elevator let out a subdued ‘ding’ and the doors rolled open. Gerard stepped out and padded down the corridor until he found him and Mikey’s apartment. His hands dove into his pockets until he found his copy of the key, and unlocked the door.

Gerard’s already quick heart began to accelerate, what if Mikey had gone looking for him? He almost lost him once, he wasn’t going to let that happen again.

He gently pushed the door open with a shaking hand, finding the room enveloped in darkness. As he stepped past the threshold, the light flicked on, revealing a wild-haired Mikey brandishing the biggest kitchen knife they owned.

“Gee!? Oh my god…” Mikey dropped the knife with a clatter to the kitchen floor, and embraced Gerard. Gerard returned the embrace, both brothers taking each other in. Gerard inhaled deeply, closing his eyes in ecstasy. _Fuck, Mikey smells good._ He could hear the blood roaring under his skin like a raging river, his heart thudding like a drum in an ancient rowing warship. Enticing aromas seeped from his skin, of blood and perspiration and city smoke. Everything Gerard held in his arms was so alive, so vibrant, so _delicious_. It was like hugging a roast dinner, and if he didn’t let go something horrible would happen.

Gerard stumbled backwards, shocked and terrified at his own thoughts. Here he was, about to say goodbye to his brother, but all his brain could conjure up was the idea of his brother being _food?_ Clearly Gerard’s dark thoughts had reached his face, as Mikey frowned and stood back at Gerard’s look of sheer terror.

“Gee, what’s wrong? Is it something I said?” Mikey had no idea why his brother was suddenly bent double and panting, looking like he had seen a ghost. Gerard peered from under his flickering eyelids and put his hand over his nose and mouth.

“Nothing, it’s nothing, everything is fine…” Gerard suddenly coughed loudly into his cupped hand. Mikey started towards him, only to be blocked by his shaking hand.

“No, don’t come any closer...I don’t want to hurt you.” Mikey gingerly stepped forward towards his brother’s retreating form, like he was around a skittish animal.

“Gerard, what’s going on? You need to get back to the hospital…” Gerard coughed again, and only just managed to rasp something incomprehensible.

“Gee, it’s okay, you can tell me,” Mikey said reassuringly, taking Gerard’s arm and sitting him down on the sofa.

“The doctors are there to help you get better.”

“No...doctors...please,” Gerard coughed, “they’ll...” Mikey almost jumped out of the seat when he saw a smooth trickle of blood fall from his brother's nose as he coughed again. Mikey’s rapid heartbeat was a deafening drum in Gerard’s ears, each beat a ticking time bomb on how long he could hold back without draining him dry.

“Gee...what the hell happened to you?” Mikey breathed. Gerard wiped the blood on his sleeve and took a deep breath. It was only at this moment when he realised the implications of what he was going to do. What he would say would be enough to implode Mikey’s world, take away his life with him. Hell, his brother would probably reject him. Most humans hated and feared vampires, and Mikey was no exception. There really was no going back now.

“Mikey...something went really wrong that night…”

“I know, you were attacked, I-”

“No Mikey, like, really, _really_ wrong. I am not what I used to be.” Gerard stared directly into Mikey’s dull human eyes. It was only now that he realised how fragile humans looked.

“Mikey...I got bitten. I’m a vampire.” A flurry of movement exploded beside him as Mikey scrambled to get away from his brother.  His only brother, now a monster. He dashed across the room for a weapon and picked up the knife he had before, brandishing it wildly. Gerard staggered upwards, raising hands in defense, trying his best to not be surprised.

“You’re...you’re one of them!?”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t want this to happen. I’m sor-”

"Shut up! You’re not my brother, you’re a monster! Fuck, Bob was right!” Mikey walked backwards to a small table, still pointing the knife at Gerard. He picked up a small black rectangle, about the same size as a playing card, and groped at the wall to find the landline.

“Wait, who the fuck is Bob? Mikey, just listen for a second.” Mikey ignored him and began to dial. Notes of panic began to flutter in Gerard’s chest as the phone droned it’s succession of beeps and static.

He was calling the police, or worse.

Gerard couldn’t let this happen.

He sprinted to the phone at an unnatural speed and slammed the receiver into the wall, creating a flaky dent in the cheap plaster. Mikey was frozen in mid-air, utterly stunned by his brother’s actions. Neither of them breathed. Gerard was the first to speak.

“I get that you’re afraid of me, I really do. But I am still your brother, Mikes. I just wanted you to know something while there is still time.” Mikey swallowed hard, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Why are you here Gerard?”

“Because I fucking love you, Mikey. Because I might not ever see you again. It would be safer for you if I just disappeared for a while.” Light flickered from behind Mikey’s eyes and pooled at the edges.  

“You don’t even have to see me again, if you want. It’s just that they’ll be so much shit about me on TV and newspapers, and they’ll tell you that I’m a monster, that I’m cruel and heartless. But I wanted you to know that although I am a monster, I am your brother too.” By now tears were pooling in both pairs of eyes, and despite the difference in substance, the depth of the sorrow was the same.

Fat, clear drops snaked down Mikey’s thin face, while dark scarlet rivers poured down on Gerard’s rounder one. Their eyes met, and finally they truly saw each other.

A scared kid wanting his brother back.

A confused monster trying to keep his soul.

The future they had made suddenly seemed further away than anything they ever had, their normality slipping away.

“I don’t think you are a monster Gerard.” Gerard looked up to his brother. His eyes were drowning in sincerity, and his face was taking on that stubborn quality showing undeniable loyalty.

“I’m just...well I...I never thought vampires would be so…”

“So human?”

“Yeah.” The two men shifted awkwardly, before Mikey rested his hands on Gerard’s slumped shoulders, forcing Gerard to look at him.

“I will never betray you. You are _my brother_.” Gerard exhaled and ran a hand through his long black hair. This was all wrong, his brother should be killing him, he was a monster, right? _Right?_

“I’m sorry it’s come to this Mikes.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

“It’s too dangerous, I’m too dangerous. I need you to carry on.”

“You know I can’t do that. I don’t care where this leads me. I’m coming with you.”

“Mikey, you can’t-”

“Yes, I can. And I will.” And at that, there was no way Mikey was changing his mind. He could find an opinion, decide on it and it would be set in stone, forever. This was both a blessing and a curse.

“There’s no way I am ever leaving you again.” Mikey whispered intently. Gerard firmly embraced his brother, and this time there was total transparency between them. No secrets, no lies, no fear. They were just two brothers, preparing for an oncoming storm the didn't know how to shelter from.

“We’d better get back to Ray, or he’ll worry.” Gerard added, hastily wiping away the blood on his face.

“Who’s Ray?” queried Mikey.

“I’ll explain later.” Mikey just nodded, disappearing into his room to get his stuff. Gerard did the same in his room, and soon enough they were ready to leave the world they knew. They stepped out of the door, Gerard with a satchel slung on his shoulder, Mikey with a beat up backpack, and made their way back to the cheap motel.

* * *

Ray was reading a book when the door burst open, followed by two men tumbling inside. Ray bolted upwards, the book sliding to the floor as he dashed to the door to see what all the fuss was about. The door was ajar and in front of it stood a tall, reedy man with straw coloured hair who was supporting Gerard on his shoulders.

“Who the hell are you?” Ray demanded at the sight of them.

“No time. My brother said you would help me, please?” The other man wheezed, and one look at Gerard's condition was enough to convince him as he motioned them inside. He gasped at the state of him, Gerard looked like death, which was shocking considering that Gerard was already a walking cadaver. Ray looked to the taller man, and wondered if he’d met him before. He had the same slightly wild hazel eyes as Gerard, and was dressed entirely in black, save for the red bandanna covering his throat. He was sure he had seen him before. Brushing those thoughts aside, Ray rushed to help the man.

“We need to get him on a flat surface, so whatever blood is left can flow properly.” Ray bent down to grasp Gerard's ankles while the other man looped his arms under Gerard's shoulders. Together they deposited him on the sofa and Ray dashed to the kitchen. Gerard was convulsing slightly as Ray emerged, arms laden with blood bags from the fridge.

The other man paled and stood back, clearly out of his depth, and let Ray work. Using his teeth, Ray bit into the bag, his slightly elongated canines piercing a hole in the plastic. The blood spilled over as he held the bag and a considerable amount splashed on his face, but he was too busy to care. He turned to the other man, petrified at the sight of him.

“Hold him down.” It wasn't a request, it was a command, and one look at Ray with blood on his face told the man it would not be wise to disobey. The man rushed to the sofa and pinned his wrists together in one hand and stilled his shaking legs with the other. Ray knelt down, and gently tilting his head back, brought the open bag to his lips.

“Drink.” He whispered urgently, tilting the bag a little closer. Gerard didn't need to be told twice, he swallowed the red liquid with no abandon.

Gradually, the convulsions began to reduce enough so the man could release his wrists and let him hold the bag, and after a few bags were drained a hint of colour returned to his face. Ray pulled up a dining chair and sighed loudly in relief, while the man sat on the coffee table. After a while, Gerard fell into a deep sleep.

“Will he be okay?” The man asked tentatively.

“Yeah, he should be stable by now. He just needs to make sure he doesn't pull a stunt like that again.” Ray almost seemed to scold Gerard as he lay, his chest slowly rising and falling like the steady ocean tide.

“I'm not sure if you remember, but I'm Mikey.” Ray's eyes lit up as he finally recognised the man properly. He _had_ seen him before!

“Yeah, I saw you a few times at the hospital.” Ray explained, half to himself.

“Thank you...for helping him.” Mikey refused to meet his eyes as he spoke, and the slowly drying blood on Ray's face wasn't helping matters.

“You're welcome.” An awkward silence stretched between them.

After a few crawling minutes, Gerard stirred on the sofa, flickering his eyes across the room. Chairs, a table, unmade beds, Ray covered in blood, and his stricken brother. His gaze hardened as he took them in, furrowing his brow as he tried to visualise what kind of situation would involve this. He stared, perplexed at what he saw.

“What...just happened, exactly?” Mikey sighed in relief, and stood from the table.

“You passed out due to anemia.” Ray answered rather tersely. Gerard just nodded like it was the most ordinary thing in the world. A lot of strange things had occurred in the short space of a few days. However, suddenly and irrationally, anger flared in Ray's chest.

“How did Mikey get here?” Gerard mumbled drowsily as he propped himself up by his elbows.

“Never mind that. What the _hell_ were you doing out there? You have no idea how dangerous that was, you could have died from thirst, someone might have recognised you!” Ray cried. He stood up sharply, the force of his movements knocking it over as he snarled in fury.

“What if you bit someone? What if you bit Mikey!? Just what the _fuck_ were you thinking!?” By now he had raised his voice to shouting level and his eyes blazed like the pits of hell. Both Gerard and Mikey kept very quiet and very still, like they were playing dead to escape a very hungry lion. In some ways, Ray was just like a lion, his eyes burnt predatory shades of gold, his face was covered in the spoils of his plastic victim, accompanied by gleaming fangs. Even his hair had puffed out a little. No one dared to break the silence, it was so quiet you could've heard a spider's whisper.

“I understand that what I did was reckless, and I could have hurt someone. For that, I am sorry.” Gerard swallowed hard.

“But I think that it might be better if I go it alone.”

“Gee-” Mikey pleaded before being cut off.

“This is my problem, and I brought this on myself. I thank you for all you have done for me, and I just wanted to say goodbye before I go. I'm sorry to have caused you so much trouble.” No one breathed. No one dared to move. Apart from Ray, who breathed deeply and relaxed his shoulders. In the space of a few seconds, any trace of Ray the lion was gone. Ray took a deep breath before replying,

“Thank you for apologising. But what just happened tonight shows that you wouldn't last five seconds on your own.” Gerard was about to raise his eyebrows as this, but he knew Ray was right. At the moment, he kinda sucked at being a vampire.

“I am way too involved to back out now, and when you're not pulling stupid stunts, you're gonna need someone with medical expertise to get you through the transition. As you found out tonight, it's harder than it looks.” He spoke in a quiet and understated way, yet the words ached with potential. They were the sort of words that resonated like the edges of a storm, when the power of suggestion creates ideas far more vivid than words could ever reach, just like the brimming thunder’s promise of violence is far more terrifying than the deliverance.

“You've got a bit of...um” Mikey gestured to his chin. Ray's expression creased in confusion, before smoothing out when he realised that he was still covered in blood. He wiped the worst of it off with the back of his hand, staining almost all of it crimson. No wonder Mikey looked so freaked out, he looked like an ax murderer!

“Hey Ray, thanks. I know you always have my back.” Said Gerard. Mikey coughed loudly.

“Oh yeah, you helped a bit too Mikey.” Mikey began to laugh.

“Shut up.” He smirked. Gerard grinned wolfishly, which spread into a stifled giggle, then soon into a laugh. Mikey started to giggle too, it spread to Ray like a virus. Soon the entire room was filled with crazy laughter.

All the shock and insanity they had been through had finally hit them, leaving them incapacitated by laughter. All the stresses and strains of the day were detonated in a strange bomb of uncontrollable euphoria. The kept laughing for several minutes, until it eventually died down, as if it were nothing but a passing cloud.

“What do we do now?” Ray asked dizzily. Before any of them could answer, the screech of police sirens scored through the air. It was obvious what it was looking for. In the stunned silence, Mikey was the first to speak.

“We run.”


	6. Gerard Way Must Die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE! I thought it might be fun to do a double update, since I finished it early :) . Hope you enjoy it! TRIGGER WARNING: Things get pretty gory in this chapter, and if this triggers you in any way, I suggest you skip this chapter.

The piercing screech of the sirens penetrated the thin walls of the hotel like a banshee’s call as the blaring lights chased away the comfort of the darkness. Both Ray and Gerard shielded their eyes at the blue and red frenzy and ducked down to escape the glare.

Unsurprisingly, Ray was the first to recover, and in a frenzy of orders, him and Mikey took control. Ray stuffed in a few extra things into his duffle, Mikey grabbed the blood bags from the fridge in a flurry of human and inhuman movement.

“Can you stand?” Ray queried.

“Yeah...I think so.” Gerard grunted a little as Mikey pulled him up by the arm. They bolted to the fire exit, being careful not to make too much noise on the iron ladder as they descended, and piled into Ray’s car.

The tyres squealed against the slightly damp tarmac earnest, as if it was startled at by Ray's driving. Gerard looked to Ray from the passenger seat, his face was set harder than stone. His hands however were alarmingly calm, they slowly shifted over the steering wheel in a way that could be mistaken for sloth, but it was obvious who was in control of the machine. It was quite different to what he saw before, when Ray was composed of wide eyes, frantic explanations and white knuckles. Clearly, this whole thing ran much deeper than ‘one freak helping another’.

By the look of Ray's determined expression, this was personal.

Gerard swivelled his gaze to the window, taking in the suffocating darkness, and let Ray drive him into the night.

* * *

Bob stood proudly outside the seedy motel as his squad searched the complex, marvelling how everything had so expertly fallen into place. In the end, Mikey was the one who led Bob to his brother, despite his desire not to. He glanced at the monitor on his linux tablet, seeing the little red dot was beeping nicely. Perhaps he should thank him later, before he was sentenced to prison for perverting the course of justice, naturally. He grinned as he looked up, the glow of the monitor painting his teeth a ghoulish green. The radio on his belt squawked before a female voice chimed through.

“Agent Bryar, come in?” Bob pulled out the black radio and spoke into the interface.

“Status report, Agent Gallico?"

"No sign of them, Chief, but I got a team pursuing them outside.”

“Have you checked their room? The tracker should lead you there.”

“Yeah, but we think they probably escaped through the back door and left the tracker, but we’re still gonna comb the motel in case any leeches are hiding ‘em.” Bob sighed in exasperation as he brought the radio away from his mouth.

Sometimes, it was hard to believe how incompetent people could be, even if they were considered the cream of the crop. He brought the radio to his face again, closer this time, so the soldier could hear every word,

“It only a matter of time before this fucker does something real bad, anything could have bitten him, it could have been old, it could have been diseased, or anything. You need to find that bloodsucker and those traitors, and bring them in,” he paused for a second, as if he was hoping, daring her to respond so he could tear her apart.

 _“Dead or alive.”_ He switched off his radio after that.

He turned to face the building, giving it a hard cold stare, as if it was a personal obstruction to his mission. He wanted to find Gerard Way more than anything, if not for justice, then to keep the city safe. Gerard Way could be anything, and thus harm anyone. There were too many variables for Gerard to be allowed to survive. There were too many things that could go wrong, and too much potential bloodshed.

Gerard Way must die.

* * *

The car shuddered and shook due to its poor suspension as Ray drove out of the city. It was only a matter of time before the Agency were onto them, and to escape the Agency, he would have to do the unthinkable. There was only one place he knew of that the agency didn't dare to tread, and for very good reasons.

Mikey looked to the window to watch the city recede into suburbia. Where Ray was taking them he knew not, but he was fairly certain it would be somewhere dangerous.

“Ray, where exactly are we going?” Mikey leaned forward in his seat. Ray replied, never once breaking eye contact with the road.

“The Crimson desert.” Noting how perplexed Mikey looked, he elaborated. “You've probably heard it as the Red Zone.” Mikey flopped down to the seat in shock and disbelief.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. The Red Zone is the only place they won't look.”

“That's because it's the only place they can't control! Do you realise how dangerous this is!? The place is crawling with vampires, if the Agency don't find you, the vampires will smell my blood from miles away. And if they get me, I could be turned, or worse. Those vamps have no mercy and no remorse. They will hunt me down, and then they will feed you to AHIC for money. It's a suicide mission!” Mikey threw his hands in the air, a salute to how hopeless he felt.

“If you weren't prepared for how dangerous this was gonna be, you shouldn't have come.” Ray hissed savagely.

“Hey, don't talk to my brother like that!” Gerard interjected. Ray seethed between his teeth,

“Gerard, he's human, he doesn't understand the implications of…”

“Well I'm a vampire, and I don't see why we have to go to the Red Zone. There must be another way.”

“It's either the Red Zone, or AHIC will hunt us down like dogs. They are everywhere, but there.” Ray barked. Gerard huffed angrily, letting his head flop to the headrest, a similar gesture to his brother. The small space was very quiet for a long time. Gerard turned in his seat to Mikey, hoping to talk to him. Mikey had come through for him when he needed him the most, now it was his turn. Mikey stared intently at his beat up converses, melding his hands together to stop them from shaking.

“Mikey?” Gerard asked softly, sending out more than a question, but a gentle, unspoken plea. He continued to stare at his shoes, desperately hoping to conceal his terror. To Gerard that just confirmed how scared he was. Mikey exhaled shakily, his breath catching in the air as he mumbled,

“I wish I could defend myself or something, but the truth is as soon as the sun goes down, I'll have nothing. And if they come and get me…”

“You don't have nothing. You've got me and Ray. We're brothers and we will _always_ stick together. To the end.” Mikey continued to stare down his shoes. Right then he internally begged for the courage to speak, to meet his brothers eyes. The shoes rested lazily on his feet, mocking him in his plight. He suddenly hated his shoes. They were stopping him from facing the horrifying reality he now lived in.

“Mikey.” Gerard asked again, this time more forcefully. Mikey tilted his head and met Gerard's eyes.

“I'll never let them hurt you. _I promise._ ” His voice had taken on a hoarse, raspy quality, it had become ragged and torn with one promise. As Mikey looked to his brother, his only brother, he knew that Gerard would keep that promise.  Logic said that Mikey wouldn't survive out there, but unequivocally he knew Gerard would protect him. The Red Zone was a foul and lawless place, but it wouldn't condemn him. Not while he still breathed the air and walked upright. Mikey nodded slowly, finally accepting what lay ahead.

Out of nowhere, a stripe of red light glided across the rearview mirror, accompanied by the wail of sirens. Ray swerved suddenly and cursed loudly, starting to accelerate down an eerily silent residential block. He hurtled down the street and cursed again when he saw it was a dead end. He started a U-turn, but without warning the bland street was swarming with official cars, the sirens blaring its brutal cry. Ray rapidly stopped the car, the tyres screeching to a halt. The AHIC cars were lined abreast across the street, completely blocking their path. Bob was in one of those cars, he could see they were sitting ducks. They would all be dead in just a few minutes.

“Gotcha.” He snarled vindictively. Slowly, the car doors opened, like a swarm of malevolent insects spreading their wings, and out stepped a fleet of highly trained agents. All of them were armed to the teeth with either aluminium and wooden stakes, but some of them carried handguns. Some of them even carried crossbows, quivers resting on their backs laden with long pointy stakes. They had come to the point when official procedure no longer mattered. They were here to kill.

Bob lead the squadron, carrying just a wooden stake tipped with glistening silver. They all took collective, marauding steps towards them, every step confirming their deaths, every step a countdown on a deadly clock. Ray was as white as a sheet, Mikey had a similar pallor. They were seemingly frozen in time, only they were very, very aware of it running out. In a moment of rash instinct, Gerard acted.

“Go to the back seat. Now.” Gerard whispered harshly. Ray obeyed, too stunned to argue. He clambered to the back of the car and Gerard shifted himself to the driver's seat.

“Hold onto something.” Ray quickly strapped himself in and grasped the overhead strap while Mikey followed suit. They were only ten metres away now. Gerard grinned devilishly at the windscreen, gripping the steering wheel more tightly.

“It's gonna be a rough ride.” Ignoring both panicked protests and questions from both Mikey and Ray, slammed his foot on the accelerator.

The agents scattered like rats from torchlight as the car hurtled towards them at alarming speed. Screams filled the car, but it seemed too loud for just two, until he realised some of those screams were his own.

Most of them evaded the speeding vehicle, but some weren't so lucky, and the car barrelled straight into them, some catapulted over the windscreen and onto the pavement, others falling under the wheel with a sickening crunch. The car bounced wildly over the unfortunate who had fallen under the wheels, the wheels spinning uselessly. Eventually, the wheels found purchase and the car shot forward again. Gerard tried not to think what the wheels were gripping on.

The road was covered in thick, sticky agent blood, the treads of the wheels spreading it around like a paintbrush on an asphalt canvas. The remaining agents began shooting at the car with gusto, the windows shattering around them. They ducked down to avoid the hailstorm of bullets and stakes, but Gerard kept driving from below.

Nothing was going to slow him down.

He sharply turned the car and drove over an immaculate lawn, leaving two red streaks where the wheels were and hurtled around the line of cars.

Bob scrambled from the ground and raced to the car. He had been hit head on, but luckily he had gone over, not under. _Poor bastards_ , he thought briefly, but now wasn't the time for sympathy. He was about to yank the door open, grab the young (and undoubtedly inexperienced) driver by the collar and throw him onto the concrete to pursue them, but something stopped him.

He took in the gory scene, the road was covered in blood, the velveteen liquid peppered with obliterated flesh and shattered bones. Bodies lay on the concrete with crude, tyre tread lacerations, blood oozing outwards like the juice from a squashed tomato, flesh and organs spilling out like the seeds. He knew that things you just have to do yourself, but right now he had no full team, no sunlight and no information. Tonight, Bob Bryar had lost them. He angrily swung a fist at a nearby letterbox, swearing loudly as it fell. Blood covered his face and ran into his eyes, but even without the aid of his comrades blood, he was seeing red.

He would kill those freaks even if he had to use his bare hands.

Gerard sped down the road in Ray's car, jerking and twisting the wheel aggressively, going so fast the speedometer needle was hitting the red line. He had no idea where he was going, only that he had to go very fast. Although that team was crippled, Gerard knew there would be others. Ray and Mikey didn't dare to speak, both were still aghast at what just happened. That was a blessing in some ways, Gerard still couldn't quite process what he'd just done. He drove more and more aggressively, trying to swerve and brake hard enough to erase his actions. He didn't want to think about what he did, or how he felt about it at the time…

_Shut up shut up shut up!_

Just then Gerard swerved particularly hard, nearly banging the tail end of the car into a letterbox. _I can't think about this now,_ Gerard thought, _I need to focus._ The sirens still cut into the otherwise silent night, but didn't pursue them. Seemingly for one night, they had lost them. He carried on driving, hoping Ray would direct him to the Crimson Desert, hoping the mundaneness would help him forget.

* * *

 In Ray's experience, having a doctors state of mind is an excellent way to cope in a crisis. By focusing on other people's ailments, one therefore doesn't have to focus on the context, or their own problems. It was a very short term arrangement, and it would be foolish to employ this full time, but in times of great stress, it was perfect.

He looked to Mikey, quickly examining his outward appearance. He sat rigid and upright, contrary to his usual slouch, with his fists resting on his knees. The eyes were glazed over and unblinking, and although Mikey wasn't known for his expressive face, here he looked positively catatonic. Ray deduced this as shock, but a doctor's degree wasn't needed to see that.

Gerard showed most of the same symptoms, only it looked like his stillness was a conscious effort, unlike Mikey’s more effortlessly frozen state. It looked like if he wasn't holding himself still, he would start to shake. _He_ _really shouldn't be driving_ , mused Ray, but right then his mouth felt too scared to move. While he was in a certain state of mind, he could think relatively clearly, but he could feel the rest of his mind, his shock, peeling away the corners of his put upon calmness. So right then, he didn't do the right thing and take over driving. Instead, he tried to make sense of the tangle of thoughts in his head. If he was honest with himself, he was just as scared about the Red Zone as Gerard and Mikey were. He didn't take this decision lightly, but he wasn't sure the Ways knew that yet. Although it was the right thing to do, there was a part of him that couldn't bear to come back to that place. Many years had passed since he’d been there, but it was still ensnared with memories. On the outside, Ray was a good little citizen, not the type to break the law. Even before he met Gerard, he had done just that. Just like Gerard, his very existence was a crime. His father was a good man, and he fell for a good woman, only she wasn't exactly human. After months of wild, mad and hidden love, they eloped to the desert, Ray's mother miraculously pregnant. Ray didn't remember when his father made the choice to abandon his mother and bring him to the city, but memories of the desert still lingered in his mind like seaweed stuck to the shore.

He couldn't tell the Ways that he was born in that godforsaken place, they may not trust him if they knew this. Anyway, they had enough problems at the moment.

Speaking of those problems, what the _hell_ just happened to Gerard? Before he still seemed very human, almost _too_ human for what he was, but just a few minutes ago he had run over several agents, several _humans_ like it was nothing. Yes, it was a logical solution, but Ray didn't think it was the right one. It was the sort of choice most humans and even a few _vampires_ wouldn't have the stomach to face, let alone one that was still sleeping and had only been immortal for a few days. In that case, what happened to Gerard's morality, and why did it disappear so quickly?

Ray frowned and shook his head, he was overthinking this. Hell, he didn't know the guy, maybe this sort of behaviour was always within him as a human, and had just been drawn out by his vampiric nature. He just didn't know. Ray saw a familiar turning point and asked Gerard to let him drive, and luckily he obeyed without question. All of them were too tired to argue right now. They just had to survive long enough to the next step, and the next one, and the next one. None of them could know or care what the end was at that night. They were all just trying to stay alive.


	7. Hotel Bella Muerte

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This will probably be my last chapter this year, as I intend to just cough out this chapter and then hibernate over Christmas. I hope you enjoy this chapter and all have a very merry Christmas/other religious holiday/atheist hoedown! :)  
> TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter has fairly heavy sensuality and some sexual stuff, but nothing really explicit

The last hours of guaranteed darkness were starting to keel over as they approached the desert.

In the distance, the long, straight road slowly merged into a huge expanse of fine sand. However, the sand wasn't like any they'd seen before, for it was the richest, darkest red they'd ever known. The horizon was a thick red line below the sky, like a vein or a small spillage of blood on the world. This was the Crimson Desert. This was the Red Zone.

Gerard and Mikey stared open mouthed at the dry, sandy expanse as Ray drove on. Rolling swells of ruby dunes were rippled with heatwaves on their crests, the expanse of red only broken by the occasional blackened rock or the rare ghost of a ruined building.

They drove onwards into the dark red mass, ploughing into the desert sea of blood towards the reddening sky, the first streaks of sunlight already creating a mesmerising haze in the sky. Ray firmly pushed his foot down harder on the accelerator, determined to get to safety. They had just escaped the hunters, he'd be damned if he'd escaped them just to have Gerard burst into flames by the sun. He carefully manoeuvred the car so they managed to stay in the shadows of the dunes as the sun crept over the horizon, the long shadows providing for them.

Mikey looked out of the window for signs of civilisation, finding nothing but oceans of red sand. There was absolutely nothing in all directions, it seemed that they were driving into an empty horizon. Mikey was confused, why would Ray go to all these lengths just to drive into the middle of nowhere? He seemed to be on their side, but right then, Mikey realised that there was absolutely nothing stopping Ray from abandoning them both in the sun, where Gerard would die instantly, leaving Mikey to languish in the desert until his inevitable death. For some reason Ray wasn't affected by the sun so much, he was probably a half, meaning that Ray could lead his brother to death and walk away unscathed. But then again, they had no choice but to trust Ray, even if that trust was waning. It was either Ray, or the desert. Mikey would take his chances with Ray.

Eventually, just when the sun was about to enter the sky, Ray sharply turned and drove around the edge of a dune, always staying in the shadows and came into a low, flat area of sand where two large dunes met. The area was walled in by huge, curving dunes, facing in a certain way so it was always in shadows. Right near the edge of the dune wall at the back stood an old wooden building. It cast an imposing shape, the edges were sharp and jagged and it was several storeys high. As they came closer they could see that it was composed of the darkest yew and ebony, with small windows with black shutters set in. Above a set of double doors was a wooden balcony adorned by highly detailed carvings of roses, vines and bones, and although each skull was warped by decay and cracks infected the roses and vines like a spider's web, the advanced craftsmanship shone through the decrepitude. The walls clung onto feathers of peeling paint, leaving faint outlines of once intense and vibrant images of death dressed up. The whole place had the impression of grandeur that had faded away in time, becoming less opulent and colourful, yet gaining a strange kind of immortality in its faded appearance. There was no obvious sign of life, and the only indication that this building meant something was a faded sign above the door, reading ‘Hotel Bella Muerte’ in ornate script. Ray pulled in next to the faded, grand house and quickly ushered Gerard and Mikey inside, just as the sun came up outside the area, ready to tear the skin right off their bones.

Inside, the house was just as dark as the outside was, only it lacked the desolate feeling the outside did.

It wasn't perfect or pristine, things were faded or missing, but somehow it felt like life had touched the house once. The walls were covered in soft, black wallpaper with fine grey swirling patterns, a crystal chandelier with several beads missing cast shards of light onto the walls. Three Chesterfield sofas were placed around a long dead fireplace, which like most of the room, was adorned with human bones. While Ray shuddered a little at the macabre display, Gerard was enthralled by it. Everything about that strange house shone of death, in its liveliest and most beautiful form.

They approached a mahogany desk at the edge of the room, behind it was a colourful beaded curtain laced with what looked like ravens feathers. The desk was deserted and dust had collected, but primarily out of habit, Ray rang the bell on the desk with a metallic thunk. Shortly afterwards, the pattering of footsteps could be heard from behind the desk, coming down what sounded like stairs. A pair of olive skinned hands parted the curtain in the middle and revealed a woman behind it.

She made quite an appearance, she was dressed in a long, formal dress covered in black lace and blood red satin, and a small top hat rested on her thick black hair. But what made her most magnificent was her tattoos. They made her look like a beautiful skeleton, the bones underneath her skin were projected onto her flesh, yet there were things not even an X-Ray could see. A silvery spiders web of ink was being spun on her forehead and a delicate rose rested on her chin. Her mouth was covered in lines, giving the impression that it was sewn shut, or the impression of the foul teeth of a bare skull. Trees, swirls and roses trailed down her arms, beauty and wildlife surrounding the stark bones painted on her skin. Two dark circles surrounded her eyes, which at the edges broke away into vines, like the shadows were a condensed bush. All over her body were tiny works of art, millions of pictures that told a story they would never understand. Ray cleared his throat and spoke to the skeleton woman;

“Necesitamos una habitación, por favor.” woman was silent, and only gestured to her wrist, where a tattoo of a partially melted clock lay.

“Solo una noche.” The woman folded her hand out flat, and Ray paid her with strange metal discs that looked unlike any money Mikey or Gerard had seen before. The woman motioned to pick up a black fountain pen and ledger, before Gerard grabbed her wrist, shaking his head stiffly. She merely raised an eyebrow and held an illustrated palm out. Ray dug around in his pockets for more money, but the skeleton woman just shook her head. Instead, she slid her free hand into a fold in her dress and produced an ornate knife. Mikey recoiled and started to protest, only to be shushed by Ray. Gerard locked onto her black eyes, and nodded apprehensively. Gerard released her wrist, allowing her to clasp his hand as if they were about to arm wrestle. With her other hand, still holding the knife, she pulled a beaded crucifix over her head and twined it around their joined hands. Grasping the knife firmly in her hand, she slowly drew a thin laceration along his exposed wrist. Mikey gasped in horror, while Ray remained stoic and silent, completely unphased by the strange act. The wound smarted a little, but Gerard made a conscious effort to not wince or look away. As the blood slowly seeped out of Gerard's veins, it was only then that he realised how beautifully made the knife was. The hilt was encrusted in rubies and garnets, shaped to look like a crucifix, while the blade was was plain, sharp steel. It was an interesting contrast, the stiff practicalness of the blade compared to the opulence of the hilt. As the blood snaked down his arm, she brought a small glass vial to his skin, catching the fluids. Not once dropping hands or breaking eye contact, she brought the bottle to her lips, and drunk. For a few painful seconds, she swirled Gerard's blood in her mouth, before abruptly spitting it out. Gerard's heart accelerated, wondering if he'd failed whatever test she’d set him. The woman finally retracted her hand, abruptly turning around, gesturing with her hand for them to follow. Gerard breathed a deep sigh of relief, and they followed the strange girl through the curtain.

She led them to a large stairwell where a towering spiral staircase resided. She then proceeded to ascend those stairs, never once stopping or breaking her stride. Along the way they passed many rooms, all with black wooden doors covered in mismatched padlocks. They noticed that the higher they climbed, the more padlocks there were. However the whole time, Mikey couldn't take his eyes off the strange woman's tattoos. He was fascinated how they seemed to cover her whole body, like her skin was made entirely of ink. Behind her curtain of hair he could make out a great tree stemming from her painted on spine, the branches were dead and lifeless. Above the highest branches, just below the nape of her neck, was a single word: Helena. She looked like one of Gerard's drawings. She looked like nothing in real life.

It was hard to believe that she was real, and not a product of a drunken stupor. Naturally, that couldn't be the case, he hadn't drank in days and Gerard had been sober for years. Yes, this was all real, from the silent skeleton girl to Gerard's vampirism.

Which, he still struggled to come to terms with.

They reached a floor near the top with only two rooms. The wood on the door was almost impossible to see for all the padlocks on it. She picked up a set of keys from her waist and began to unlock each one at an alarming pace. The men watched in astonishment as her hands worked furiously, becoming a blur as she unlocked every obstacle. After a few minutes, the door swung open, revealing a medium sized room, decorated in a similar fashion to the lobby. Without a word, the woman walked back down the stairs without leaving the keys.

She knew none of them would leave until nightfall.

No one ever does in the Crimson desert.

No one.

As she left, Ray shut the door behind him, a few dull clicks getting faster and faster sealing the door. All three of them collapsed on a nearby chesterfield sofa in exhaustion, Mikey breathing out a quiet “fuck.” They lay like this for a while, basking in their shared pipe dream of safety.

“What exactly was that?” Mikey asked Gerard. He gave a noncommittal shrug, walking over to the shuttered window. Ray gave Gerard a withering look before answering for him, “I really wouldn't question anything you see in the desert. There are many strangely beautiful and terrifying things. Guys have gone mad trying to explain them all.”

Gerard stepped out to the balcony to smoke, finally having the time and strength to do so. He took a long, deep drag of the cigarette, letting the nicotine calm his shaking nerves, careful not to step in the sunlight. Now finally alone, a stab of recollection burst into his head like an intruder. The blood, the carnage, the people he'd killed. When he'd done it, he hadn't felt a damn thing, but he sure as hell did now. He wasn't entirely sure what it was. It should be guilt, it should be sorrow, but he felt none of that.

As he breathed in the second hand smoke, he thought of the sick enjoyment he felt as he saw them fall, how their blood created a beautiful tapestry of violence on the ground. He thought of the aroma of Mikey’s blood, how sweet and delicious it smelt. Yet he felt fiercely protective of Mikey, and above all, he felt very confused. Confused at how he could be so hedonistic and bloodthirsty and yet so terrified of what he was. He knew he would never willingly hurt Mikey, but he knew one day, any day he could snap and drain him dry. He had recently fed, but how the _hell_ would they find blood in the desert? From the source? Could he do that? He dreaded the day he would have to cave in and drink straight from a human. He could feel it coming towards him in his very bones, feel the dreadful event vibrate in his body like an oncoming train. It was almost as if he could hear someone call to him, calling to his darker nature that threatened to spill out of him. He felt it more in the desert, he felt something akin to a connection fuse into his brain and course through his veins. Perhaps it was just the transition, but this felt different to what he had read, and that dream…

Gerard felt something prickle at the back of his neck and shuddered, sharply putting out the cigarette on the edge of the balcony, and went inside.

Both Mikey and Ray were asleep, no doubt exhausted from today's events, and Gerard admitted he felt pretty exhausted too. He kicked off his shoes and flopped onto the remaining bed, falling asleep as soon as his eyes were closed.

* * *

Darkness. That was all he knew. It filled his eyes and his ears and his everything, it consumed him entirely. He thought that was all he would ever know, until a light destroyed it all. It came like the lightning, flickering and buzzing it's way into life. The light touched upon his skin, revealing the world he woke up in.

He was in a small, white room, completely bare but for himself. Gerard squinted at the sudden brightness, taking in the strange situation. He was in the centre of this strange room, wearing oddly formal attire, a black shirt and trousers with a red tie. He was alone in the room, until he heard a voice.

_Gerard…_

He whipped around for the source of the voice, only to find he was alone. But was he truly alone?

_Geeerraard..._

He clapped his hands over his ears, desperately trying to escape it, but it was futile. It was everywhere, all around the room and inside his head. It was low and slightly mocking, as if it was toying with him. It felt like the voice was hunting him down.

_Oh Geeerraard, where aaaarrre yooouu?_

He choked on the air at the sound of it again, frantically turning to find it. Nothing was there. It was familiar, oh so familiar. It sent shivers down his spine and across his skin, shivers he'd felt before. It did strange things to him, made him feel vulnerable and exposed. And so…

_I'm coming to find you...you can't hide from me…_

He had definitely heard that voice before. It had haunted him once, and something told him he had seen the horror face to face. His neck prickled with a sudden chill, and sweat broke out on his skin.

Whoever it was, he didn't want it to find him. He told himself that over and over, repeating it like a mantra to mask how he really felt, to mask the _darkness_ that stirred inside him when that voice called to him. It sounded carnal, it sounded lascivious, it sounded so, so _enticing!_ He wanted this voice to find him, yet parts of him ached to run.

But first, he needed something to run from, and a voice wasn't good enough. He clenched his fists to the side, and sharply inhaled.

“Where are you? Show yourself fucker!” he shouted, sounding oddly echoey in the small room.

“Found you.”

The voice came from behind him, suddenly seeming all the more real. It was still as husky and mesmerising as before, only instead of being surrounded by it, he was trapped with it.

The realness of it all intensified that strange cocktail of emotions. It took every ounce of Gerard's strength not to tremble.

“Who are you?” Gerard demanded shakily, sounding braver than he felt. The man didn't answer, he only took a step closer, making Gerard flinch. The silence between each step was terrifying, it was full of unspoken evil and potential wickedness.

Somehow, the footsteps echoed in the tiny room, each one like a bass drum, interrupting the blood screaming in his ears. After what felt like an eternity, the voice was upon him. 

“Don't ask stupid questions”. The voice has taken a threatening undertone, all of a sudden losing its earlier teasing playfulness. Gerard tried to turn to confront the voice, but found he couldn't move. His breath came out in small, shattered gasps and his rigid body began to tremble uncontrollably.

“You remember me, don't you?” The voice purred softly. A pale, familiar hand closed around his right bicep, the other snaking around his left shoulder. Gerard could sense a small body behind him, barely touching him. He exhaled sharply at the strange, scarce contact, his skin prickling where those cold hands gently rested. He felt the body behind him gently press against his back, an action that could almost be considered tender, if not for the situation he was in.

“Come on, Gerard, you _do_ remember.” The voice had moved even closer, cold breath skating over his neck, making him shiver. Gerard slowly turned his neck, finding it was the only part of him that could move, and glanced at his captor.

He immediately wished he hadn't, and jerked his head away. The face was still burnt into his mind, dark hair, soft lips, pale skin, rounded face, fiery hazel eyes that threatened to engulf him. Oh yes, he remembered this man, all too well.  He wished he couldn't remember, but he couldn't bear to forget him.

A few seconds passed before he had the courage to speak.

“You...I saw you there...my dream...that night I can't remember.”

“ _Yes_ …” the man hissed seductively into Gerard's ear, placing a small, gentle kiss just under it, it was subtle like a threat, tender like a sick kind of reward.

“Now _why_ do you remember me, my dear?” The man murmured against his exposed skin, the movement sending almost pleasant vibrations down his spine. Through the paralysing fear, Gerard felt insatiable longing for his touch, this touch that was both gentle and dangerous, that spelled terrifying intimacy and macabre promises.

Each touch made him very much alive, more alive than he ever felt in his human life, and despite what his reason told him to think, Gerard was strangely _liking_ this.

“I...I don't know…” Gerard choked out, his heart starting to race. The man, sensing his distress, smirked against the sensitive flesh of Gerard's neck and, to Gerard's surprise, giggled. The man actually giggled like a fucking schoolgirl.

Gerard suddenly found it exceedingly difficult not to laugh; how could a man so dangerous suddenly be so cute? The man was quick to turn the tables however.

“Relax...I don't bite... _hard_.” Gerard swallowed hard to choke back a pleasured sob. He cursed himself at showing any hint of his inevitable surrender, but he could soon see it was futile to resist.

Already he could feel a fervent throb beneath his jeans, a reverse waterfall of red flooded his face and he clenched his teeth in order to silence himself. He was already incredibly stimulated, just by a few touches and the sound of his voice! Who was this man!?

Before he could even think about answering these questions, the man had him by the throat, capturing it in his silken lips. 

“Fuck…” Gerard gasped like it was his dying breath as the man glided his lips near his jugular and throat at an excruciating pace. His hand glided into Gerard's long hair and gently tipped his head back a little, allowing more access to the exposed, vulnerable flesh.

Gerard's breathing became shallow and his eyes fluttered closed at his actions, his mouth falling open in ecstasy. The man hummed in contentment, gripping him more tightly and more closely, and started to leisurely grind against him in steady, circular motions. An unrestrained moan spilled out of his lips as the man continued to ravish and grind into him before he could stop himself, his knees weakening at each tantalising, teasing action.

His inability to move further intensified the sensations, he couldn't flinch, he couldn't writhe or arch his back, he couldn't do anything other than feel the whole force of what the man was doing to him.

He was on the verge of something, any more and he would spiral over the edge into the darkness. The man clearly enjoyed tormenting him, and was very aware of the effect he had on him, as every now and then the man would pause to chuckle softly at Gerard's beautiful agony, or occasionally he would sharply bite down into the soft flesh, relishing how Gerard cried out as he did so.

Together they were trapped in a complex and all consuming spectacle, he was the master, Gerard was the slave in the arena. Every kiss and movement was folding and twisting Gerard into endless forms, the bites bringing him to heel, reminding him where the fear, where the _power_ is.

Just when he thought he would lose it all, the man suddenly vanished. Gerard collapsed on the floor like a puppet with its strings cut, his head spinning wildly. He squinted into the harsh light, and he saw the plain walls began to shift and move under his eyes, wobbling across his vision like a mirage in a desert. He blinked twice to get rid of any illusions, but the walls were in fact, moving right in front of him.

Eventually, the walls became still, but the room was no more. Instead what lay ahead of him was a vast and twisting maze made of the same plain walls as the room. The man was nowhere to be seen, Gerard whipped around to find him, seeing only fathomless pathways in all directions. Suddenly, in an ominous haze of black smoke, the man was in front of him. He was dressed also in formal attire, only his shirt was white. On each eye lay a painted on cross, standing out against the scarlet shadows around his black eyes. Gerard backed away, startled by his sudden appearance, causing the man to grin raveningly. He took one step forward, closing the distance just a little.

Gerard stopped breathing.

He couldn't.

The man then widened his smile, decadently inhaling like a wild animal tracking down its prey.  

“ _Run_.”

The command has dropped to a harsh, unyielding whisper, and Gerard obeyed it without question.

What else could he do?

He turned and fled down the path behind him, followed by swift, inhuman footsteps and mad, echoing laughter. He turned in every direction he could think of, never stopping to think where he was going or what would happen if he stopped.

His feet pounded against the floor in time to his roaring heart, the little blood that was inside him racing around his veins like a bullet train. Every turn he made he would catch glimpses of him, forcing him to turn back or change direction.

On and on he ran, turning down another pathway after finding that the others were blocked by the mysterious man. This section, unlike the others was completely straight, and it seemed to go on for an eternity. Gerard kept running, ignoring his burning lungs and the blinding whiteness of the of the ceiling and walls. He ran hard and fast until he slammed against a hard, unforgiving wall and slid to the floor from the impact. He groaned in pain at the sudden stop, only to realise with sickening dread that he'd reached a dead end.

Gerard scrambled to get up, grasping desperately at the wall for support. Finally getting to a standing position, he realised the only way out was blocked by the man’s small, yet imposing form.

Gerard tried to scramble away, only to fall back against the wall, fingers splaying against the surface. The man just smiled, a slow, savage smile, and strode towards him. He took his time, relishing each step, knowing he had all the time in the world.

The maze took on a distorted quality to it, both at once fading in and out of existence, the white space slowly corrupting itself. Deep crimson liquid seeped out of edges that didn't exist before, and on each step the man took, a foot-sized pool of blood was left behind.

The maze was slowly dying.

Fear crept into Gerard's nerves as the man came closer, closer, then started to speak.

“Too slow. Again.”

Suddenly a fragment of a memory assaulted his consciousnesses, momentarily drowning him in oblivion. He shook his head, trying to stay afloat.

“The time will come when you and I will speak again Gerard.” The man took a step.

“And that time,” another step.

_...Gerard didn’t struggle as the smaller man’s shadow crossed his face, the vampire suddenly towering over him. His eyes were looked so trusting, so innocent, and his body was slack as the vampire slowly pinned his wrists to the brick wall and gently tipped his long, pale neck to the side..._

"There'll be nowhere,” another step.

 _..."I don't think your heart is going fast enough, don't you?"_  
_His voice was now down to a low purr, sending cold icicles down Gerard's spine.  
"F-fuck...you..." He rasped in a desperate attempt for defiance. The man glowered, then abruptly moved his thigh between Gerard's legs, just brushing the apex, forcing a moan from Gerard's lips..._

“To run.”

_...Fatality is like ghosts in the snow…_

* * *

Gerard woke with a jolt, sucking the air into his lungs. He was breathing hard and fast, closing his eyes as images flashed across his fevered consciousness, remembering how his voice, his hands, his _tongue_ rendered him a shivering mess in that dream.

He could still see his eyes most of all, sometimes it was like looking through the windows of a burning house, while other times it was like staring into the depths of the universe.

He shook himself, trying to dispel those things inside his head, for none of them made much sense. He glanced around the room, everything was as it should be, Ray and Mikey were asleep and not a hair was out of place.

He had no idea who that man was, and was likely nothing but a construct. Then why did he feel so familiar? Why did it feel so fucking _real_?

Soon Gerard's attention was diverted to an uncomfortable throbbing between his legs and upon seeing it he sighed crossly. He swung his legs from the bed, checking that Mikey and Ray were still asleep, and crept into the bathroom.

“Ugh...that _motherfucker_.” Gerard muttered to no one in particular as he locked the door behind him. He made short work of it, he stripped off, stepped into the shower and turned on the faucet.

As the steaming water poured down over his skin, he quickly relieved himself, trying not to picture that strange man doing stranger things to him in his mind, clenching his teeth to suppress the moans.

As he finished, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror - he barely recognised himself, long dark hair plastered to his neck and face, which was contorted in unraveling desire.

He shut off the water and dried himself off, staring harshly at his own reflection. Hard lines built his face where there were once softer curves, two sets of sharp canine teeth stuck out on both rows like needles and eyes burned like hot metal. He squinted at his alien reflection, noticing a faint smudge of red around his eyes, like he had been recently punched in the face or had a bad night's sleep.

“Just who the _fuck_ are you?" Gerard murmured softly, eyes blurring with almost disgusted wonderment.

He was distracted by another thin, scarlet trail snaking from his nose down his face, and he hastily wiped it away. The nosebleeds were no longer alarming at this stage, it was just another part of his transition from human to vampire, albeit a rather annoying one. He got dressed and crept back to his bed, pretending to sleep until the night fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Necesitamos una habitación, por favor - We need a room, please.
> 
> Solo una noche - Just one night


End file.
